


When The Dust Settles

by Spagheddje



Series: Family Divided (Dream SMP) [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Crying, Demon Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Dream SMP Spoilers, Dream Smp, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Dream has a small moment of clarity, Dream's Homeless, Friend The Sheep - Freeform, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghostbur, Heavy Angst, Hound Army, Hurt/Comfort, Might come into play in a later fic cough cough, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), They just sort of hint at it, Tubbo Quackity and Ghostbur are in it for like a split second, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, idk how to tag, kind of, no beta we die like ghostbur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28614468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spagheddje/pseuds/Spagheddje
Summary: !!!!HEAVY SPOILERS FOR THE EVENTS OF JANUARY 6TH!!!!When the dust settles, all that remains of of L'Manberg is a crater. Friendships shattered. Families broken. Homes lost. Hope taken. That night, a God, a Traitor, a Father, and an Anarchist reflect.Aka the one where the night after the battle, Techno, Phil, Dream, and Ranboo have to live with their decisions. Angst ensues.
Relationships: They're family your honour, no ships - Relationship
Series: Family Divided (Dream SMP) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096295
Comments: 7
Kudos: 299





	When The Dust Settles

**Author's Note:**

> The war absolutely ripped my heart out and shot it with a rocket launcher, so it's time to project my angst onto already traumatized characters :')
> 
> This is my first time writing Ranboo and Dream (properly) so pls go easy on me lmao
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Obviously, as stated in the description, this has MAJOR SPOILERS for the events of January 6th, the Doomsday War. I went back and had transcribed pretty much the whole Tommy & Techno argument, so there are genuine quotes and stuff in here. If you don't want spoilers, feel free to come back after you've watched the streams :)
> 
> You don't need to read the other parts of this story to understand whats going on, but if you wanna check out the rest of this lil series I've been working on, please do! This could also be viewed as a standalone fic, though!
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!!

It was done. L’Manberg was gone, far passed the point of being able to rebuild. There was still the occasional Wither explosion from down below, but Techno could barely hear the hissing and the blasts over the sound of the storm. Pale pink hair that he wore in a messy braid was soaked, sticking to sweaty skin and the back of his armour. Techno reached up to unclasp his Netherite Helmet and lift it off his head. He held it loosely in one hand, ruby red eyes fixated on what used to be L’Manberg. A country, gone, in the span of an hour. 

Techno glanced to his right at the sound of shouting. Tommy and Tubbo were on the other side of the obsidian grid, Tubbo with a hand on Tommy’s shoulder as Tommy was shouting obscenities at Dream, his shoulders trembling with what Techno assumed was sobs. He couldn’t see the God’s face behind the porcelain smile-mask, but Techno could practically sense him smirking at the two teens. 

L’Manberg hadn’t stood a chance.

In the time it took for him to blink, Dream was gone. The man had a habit of teleporting out of sticky situations, he had to remind himself. He looked back over at the crater as the events of the fight replayed in his head. Truth be told, most of it had been a blur. His argument with Tommy had been the main portion that he seemed to keep reliving. 

_“You’re selfish!”_

_“Selfish? You’ve used me as a weapon from the start, Tommy! You’re wearing my helmet as we speak!”_

Techno slowly dropped down into a crouch, balancing on the balls of his feet. He could remember their exchanged words clear as day. He could still see Tommy standing on pieces of debris, screaming at him over the sounds of explosions, screaming at him until his throat was raw and tears were streaming down his face. In those moments, Techno had felt nothing but anger. Now, though, a familiar feeling of hurt was starting to pool in his chest, its strings wrapping around his heart and squeezing painfully. Sometimes, though his heart did beat, Techno found himself wondering if he still considered himself to be alive. 

_“You used me as a weapon! You’ve never thought of me as a friend, Tommy, you’ve just used me from the start! You only thought of me as The Blade!”_

Maybe that’s all he was, deep down. Maybe that was all he was destined to be. Years ago, when things had been simpler, he’d been something else. He remembers being a child, running through the woods behind their old cottage with wooden swords in hands, listening to the giddy screams of his brothers as the three of them played ‘war’. It was Wilbur and Tommy against him, every time. Techno would pretend to play the villain, so Tommy could be the Hero that slayed the beast and saved the Kingdom. The amount of times Phil had found them as the sun set, Techno laying sprawled out on the grass as Tommy sat on his chest, explaining in great detail to a smiling Wilbur about how he’d been the one to beat the great monster, had been endless. Techno had simply laid there, biting back a smile as he pretended to be slain. Eventually Tommy would get bored, he’d pat Techno’s cheeks with both hands until the eldest son opened his eyes and praised Tommy for being able to beat him.

That was the way things were supposed to be with them, he suppposed.

Techno was always meant to be the villain.

_“People are above the government!”_

_“I’m a person!”_

Techno shifted from a crouch so he could take a seat. His legs dangled over the edge of the grid, and he finally took a moment to look down at himself. The armour around his chest was littered in small dents, both from blocking countless arrows, and being caught in a few of the Wither explosions. His boots were covered in mud, some parts scuffed from where he’d used them to gain climbing leverage. The helmet in his hands had the biggest dent, right above where his right temple rested. He remembered that one more than the others, Sapnap had ambushed him from above at the start of the fight. It hadn’t gone well for him, obviously, as the dogs had gone after him. That didn’t mean that it hadn’t caught Techno off guard, his ears having rung for a good five minutes from the sound of the axe colliding against the Netherite protecting his skull.

Reaching up to touch his face, Techno could feel dried blood caked around his nose and mouth. He must’ve gotten a nosebleed at some point, though when exactly he wasn’t sure. There was a small cut above his left brow and he could feel the tenseness of a bruise forming on his jawline. Had he been punched? Maybe Quackity had punched him at one point or another. Seemed like something the man would do. Maybe it had been Tommy.

_“You destroy what you love for your own self gain! You’re selfish!”_

_“And you’re not?”_

Techno remembered looking up at the grid from where he stood on the ground, seeing Phil keeping watch above them as he shouted the words down at the pair. Phil’s entire body was tense, the totem in one hand and his bow in the other. He didn’t have a scratch on him, which had settled some of the lingering fear Techno had been holding onto. Tommy had looked up too, a sob racking through his shoulders as he made eye contact with his father. His father, who’d promised to love and support both of his sons in all their endeavours.

Their father, who’d picked a side. Who’d picked between his sons.

Growing up, Phil had been a perfect father. He cared for all his sons. They always had a roof over their heads, always had food on the table. There was always love and support. They’d been a family. Now, as he sat there, staring at the giant hole that used to be L’Manberg, Techno wasn’t sure what they were.

_“Techno, we spent hours together!”_

_“Don’t speak to me of Loyalty!”_

_“You were my_ brother _and you betrayed us!”_

Those were the words that kept replaying in his head, louder than the rest. Tommy had looked him dead in the eye, fists clenched in his fists and determination all over his face. It had taken Techno a few seconds to really process what had been said.

Were. You _were_ my brother. 

He wasn’t sure why that had come as such a blow. He should’ve been expecting it, but it still stung. For a short time, Techno really had believed that he was repairing his relationship with Tommy. It had been so damaged after the Revolution, after Wilbur, that he wasn’t sure if there was any way to get his little brother back. Then, he’d found Tommy squirrelling shit away in his basement. They’d bonded. They’d learnt to get along again. They’d laughed, they’d spent time together. For the first time in a long time, Techno had been happy.

He supposed it was never meant to be.

Soft singing brought him out of his thoughts. His eyes darted around the wreckage to see the source of the noise, and that’s when he saw them. The small group was scattered across what used to be their country. Quackity was up on the rafters, a few platforms away from Techno. If Quackity noticed him, he didn’t look over. He’d removed his armour to reveal his bloodstained apron, and he held his beanie tightly in his hands, worrying the hem of it between his fingers. On the ground was Tommy and Tubbo, hands clasped tightly together. Tommy had stopped crying, face shifted from grief to numbness. Tubbo, on the other hand, had tears dripping down his cheeks, leaving clear tracks through the dust and dirt that had stuck to his skin. 

Turning to find the last voice, Techno felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Standing where Phil’s house used to be, was Wilbur. Ghostbur, technically. He was kneeling down in a small pile of rubble, head hung, holding blue wool in his hands, close to his chest. He brought the wool up to rub it against his cheek, smudging at the black tears that oozed down the ghost’s cheeks like an overflowing volacano. His hands trembled, his body desperately trying to constantly regenerate itself as raindrops sizzled away at his form. Ghostbur, however, seemed too lost in his own grief to notice, voice shaking and hiccuping as he sang. 

Fuck, they’d forgotten about Friend. 

Techno forced himself to look away, fists clenching in his lap. Friend was immortal, so deep down he knew Wilbur would be fine, he’d find him again, but that didn’t help ease the feeling of guilt in his chest. Wilbur was his twin. His brother. Friend had meant something to him, how could he have been so reckless? He didn’t regret blowing L’Manberg up, but he did regret not taking more precautions. He regretted a lot of things when it came to Wilbur. Disappointing his brothers seemed to be a reoccurring trend with him. 

As the four continued to sing, a hand came to rest on Techno’s shoulder, and squeezed reassuringly. He lifted his head to see Phil standing beside him, his gaze focused on the scene in front of them. He had taken off his helmet, having replaced it for his typical green and white bucket hat. The totem had been put away, as had his bow, and there was some emotion on his face that Techno couldn’t quite make out. Not grief, not regret, per se, but it was what he assumed was acknowledgement. Techno followed Phil’s gaze once it stilled, and found himself staring at Tommy once again. The boy was now on his knees, head hung, Jack Manifold coming to stand beside him as Tubbo knelt down. 

They’d all made a choice, including Phil. Techno wondered, as he looked between his Father and his Brother, if Phil was starting to contemplate his.

Phil tore his eyes away, looking down at his eldest as Techno’s hand came up to rest over his own. The older man forced a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, one that Techno didn’t bother attempting to return. 

“Let’s go home, mate.”

Rising to his feet, Techno spared one final look down at the carnage. He locked eyes with Wilbur, solid black meeting ruby red. Wilbur tilted his head to the side ever so slightly in confusion, as if silently pleading for Techno to give him some sort of explanation, some sort of answer as to why this had to happen. Techno took a hesitant step back, and if his eyes sung with unshed tears when he turned his back on his brother, he’d never admit it.

_“My L’Manberg, my L’Manberg, my L’Manberg...my L’Manberg.”_

When they’d gotten home, after they’d gone back for the few dogs that survived, Phil had sent Techno to bed. He’d made sure the younger mans wounds were clean and bandaged, gave his son a healing potion, and sent him to bed. Techno deserved some much needed rest. He was out pretty much as soon as his head hit the pillow and Phil had pulled a blanket over his shoulders. 

When he woke, the sun had set. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been asleep. He blinked against his pillow, burying his face into it as he tried to push the last few drops of sleepiness from his being. He should get up, he should attempt to organize the chests and do inventory of what supplies and resources they had left. Maybe he should move again. Pack up all his things, all of Phil’s things, and flee again. Give retirement another shot, far, far away where no one on the server would ever find them. 

A soft creak from down below him had Techno sitting up. Phil was probably awake, his sleeping habits were almost as bad as Techno’s.

He’d pulled the covers off and made his way down the ladder to the main part of the cottage, only to see that the source of the noise wasn’t his father. There, sitting in front of the fire, was a familiar man clad in green. He was seated on the chair beside the roaring fireplace, a cup of what Techno recognized to be Phil’s famous hot chocolate in front of him. So, he hadn’t just broken in. That was a bit of a relief. Dream’s armour was gone, replaced with a green hoodie. His hood was up, mask still on, leaving Techno to see only a small portion of the man’s neck. His black archery gloves were off and resting on the table beside his mug. 

“Phil’s outside, before you jump down my throat. He’s helping Ranboo get settled in.”

“Ranboo?”

Dream simply shrugged. His head was tilted in a way that suggested that he was watching the fire, and Techno took a few slow steps towards him. Dream’s shoulders were sagged and for the first time in what feels like years, Dream’s overall posture was slack. He looked calm. Part of him wanted to ask about why the hell Phil was outside with Ranboo, but it would probably be easier to get that information out of Phil himself. Ranboo was an alright kid, when it came down to it. He deserved better than what he got. 

“So...” Techno sat down in the empty chair across from Dream, settling himself against the pillows, “you finally gonna admit you’re homeless?”

The mask turned to look at him, and he could’ve sworn Dream rolled his eyes behind them.

“I’m not homeless.”

“Mhm. That’s not why you’re in my house in the middle of the night, you just came for a quick ‘hi, how’s it hanging, Technoblade?’ Sure, Dream, sure.” Techno heard a soft chuckle escape from the other man, and it was enough to bring the slightest of smiles to his own face.

“I didn’t want to be alone.” Dream’s gaze turned towards the fire again, and Techno’s smile faded. Maybe Dream had gotten hit in the head a little too hard, because that didn’t sound like him at all. Before Techno could respond, Dream took a deep breath in. “Phil let me in and made me hot chocolate, because I looked ‘too cold’ or something. I don’t know what that means, he can’t even see me.” 

With that, Techno watched as Dream’s hand came up towards his head. The white mask was pushed to the side, revealing wavy, sandy blond hair that fell drooped in front of his eyes. His eyes, bright green and unreadable, were still fixed on the fire, and Techno could see the reflection of flames dancing in them. Dream had freckles across his cheeks and nose, reminding Techno of little stars, each one a new constellation, a different story littering his skin. There was a long scar that ran across Dream’s right cheek, jutting raggedly down his jaw, down his neck, that disappeared under his hoodie.

“Am I a monster, Technoblade?”

The words had Techno pausing, seemingly knocking the wind out of him without Dream having even moved. His eyes were focused on the man’s face as Dream finally turned to look at him. The pair made eye contact, and Techno’s stomach churned as Dream gave him a small smile. It was meant to be kind, he was sure, but something about it was still unsettling.

“Dream, I-”

“Do you remember when we were children, Techno? You and Phil would visit the village I grew up in. You gave me my first sword. You two acknowledged me when no one else did. You saw me, you looked at me and saw something more than a scrawny, weak kid.” Dream reached down to pick up his mug of hot chocolate, soft wafts of steam radiating up from the contents inside it. He took a slow sip, and hummed. “My entire life, all I’ve ever wanted was to bring unity to the SMP. All I’ve ever wanted, Techno, was peace. I wanted all of us to be one big, happy family. I wanted a family, by any means necessary. Does that make me a monster? Tommy called me a monster.”

“Tommy called a lot of people a lot of things.”

“He’s right.”

When Techno didn’t answer, Dream started up his rambles again, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes seemed to darken slightly, and Techno could have sworn he heard the voices whisper something about Dream beginning to “slip,” whatever the hell that means.

“They deserved what they got, Techno. They needed to be taught a lesson. I’m not a helpless kid anymore, neither of us are. We’re Gods, you and I. They should have realized that a long time ago. If they want me to be a monster, Techno, then I’ll give them a monster.” There was a devious glint in Dream’s eye, and Techno hesitantly leaned forward. He let his hand rest on top of the other man’s knee, a silent call back to reality. Dream’s eyes flickered down to his legs and whatever Techno had seen bubbling up in him was starting to subside. Techno retracted his hand and leaned back wordlessly, as Dream let out the breath he’d been holding. 

“Techno?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

The two lapsed into momentary silence, Techno’s jaw tightening as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. He didn’t like lying to Dream. They’d been friends once, years ago, and lying to him always put an uneasy feeling in his gut. Lying to protect Tommy had been a different circumstance, though. 

“Yeah, I do.” Techno finally sighed, and he saw the way Dream gave a subtle nod, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. “I do, but so am I, so you’re not alone. Team Chaos, remember?”

“Team Chaos.” Dream huffed out a laugh as he put his mug down on the table. It was about half empty, only a few marshmallows left, but they had become all melty and gooey due to the heat. The other man brought his mask back down over his face, grabbed his gloves from the table, and rose to his feet. “I should go. I have a few things I need to check on that I’ve been neglecting.”

“Like finally building a house?”

“I hate you.” Dream laughed, properly laughed, pulling his gloves on as he began to walk towards the door. Techno pulled himself up and followed, bare hooves clacking against the hardwood floors as he came to join Dream by the cabin entrance.

Dream reached up to adjust his hood, grabbing a green cloak off of the coat hanger nearby. He pulled it over himself in one swift movement, tying the strings by his front to fasten it on.

“I’ll be in contact, alright? This was fun.”

“Oh, definitely. We should make it a monthly tradition.” Techno teased, earning another laugh from Dream as he shook his head. Techno pulled open the front door, the harsh, crisp air smacking him in the face immediately. He was partially envious of Dream’s mask in that moment, it acted as a mini shield.

As the two stepped out onto the porch, Techno’s eyes drifted to the shithole of a house that Tommy and Ghostbur had started to create. The one with half a roof, mismatching materials to build it, and the one that was currently housing the rest of his dogs. He could faintly see a light coming from underneath the front doors, dim enough that Techno assumed the source was a torch.

“Thanks for the chat, Techno.” 

By the time Techno turned to look at Dream, to give him a proper goodbye, he was already gone. The lack of fresh footsteps in the snow at the bottom of the stairs suggested that he teleported away. Techno huffed out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. He kept forgetting that Dream could fucking teleport. Where had he learnt that, anyways? Seems like a skill he’d just picked up one day. Techno wasn’t jealous. Definitely not.

Ducking into the cabin, Techno grabbed his boots from beside the door. He pulled them over his hooves as protection from the snow, fastened the laces, then made his way down the steps. He didn’t have any weapons on him, didn’t have his crown, and he didn’t have his typical red cape. His intimidation factor was shit, but the people he needed to intimidate weren’t exactly there at that moment.

As he reached the doors of the temporary dog house, he could hear the animals snuffling and shifting around inside. He assumed most of them would be asleep, given how late it is. He pushed open the door and peaked in, expression softening at what he saw.

Ranboo was sitting with Phil up against the wall, right underneath where Tommy and Wilbur’s photo used to be. The Enderman Hybrid had his knees up to his chest, forehead resting on them. Phi sat beside him, legs stretched out in front of him. One of the many dogs was curled up on his lap, fast asleep, as Phil was petting it’s head. A few other dogs were curled up around Ranboo, occasionally nudging his hands and legs with sad little snuffles.

Ranboo lifted his head as the door opened, and two pairs of eyes settled on Technoblade. The trio stared in silence for a moment before Ranboo dropped his head onto his knees again, and Phil gave his son a small nod.

“Did you see Dre-”

“He just left.”

Techno took a few slow steps forward, looking between Ranboo and Phil as if asking for some kind of an explanation. Phil glanced to the young boy at his side, all curled up, and he sighed. Phil had bags under his eyes, and Techno could see the ever so slight persisting tremble in his father’s hands. 

“Ranboo is going to be staying here for a while, his home in L’Manberg was blown up, and I didn’t feel right leaving him to fend for himself. We built him a home next to where we’ll move the kennel.” Phil started, seeing his son’s eyes shift to Ranboo. That answered why Ranboo was _there,_ but didn’t answer why he was huddling along with Techno’s dogs, looking like a kicked puppy himself. Phil let out another sigh. “Sometimes you just need some dog time, y’know?” 

Techno left it at that. He slowly came over to the pair, seeming awkward in his movements for a moment, before he knelt down in front of Ranboo. One of the dogs came toddling up to Techno, who scooped the fuzzy white animal effortlessly into his arms. When Techno cleared his throat, Ranboo lifted his head, and Techno took it as an opportunity to strike. He reached forward and carefully placed the dog in Ranboo’s arms, which caused the boy to uncurl himself somewhat to make room for the new fluffy addition. The dog began to lick at his cheek as Ranboo sniffled.

“What-”

“Her name is Quota. Pet her.” It came out a little firmer than he’d wanted it to, but Ranboo got the message. He began to pet the dog, scritching behind her ears with long fingers, which she seemed to enjoy. Techno and Phil shared a knowing look as Ranboo’s shoulders began to sag, finally uncurling himself enough that his legs came to rest down on the ground. There was a book in his lap, closed, with a worn cover and a pen attached to the spine. That must’ve been his ‘do not read’ book, or whatever Techno had given him back during the fight. He hadn’t read it, obviously, it wasn’t exactly his place. That, and he hadn’t had time due to the fact that he’d been fighting a war. 

The trio stayed silent for what felt like hours. Hell, it probably had been a few hours. Ranboo had fallen asleep at some point, his head resting on Phil’s shoulder. Quota was still snuggled up in the Hybrid’s lap, though she’d drifted off too. Techno was in his same spot, absentmindedly petting one of the random dogs that had decided to come curl up next to him. Phil had his head leaning back against the wall, eyes shut, though Techno got the feeling that the older man wasn’t asleep. 

Finally, Techno shifted. He pushed himself to his feet as quietly as he could, not wanting to wake both Ranboo and the cluster of dogs they’d situated himself around. Phil’s eyes opened and watched him closely.

“It’s going to get colder.” Was all he stated, reaching down to move Quota before very carefully lifting Ranboo into a bridal carry. Ranboo, who was adversed to physical touch while he was awake, seemed to love it while asleep, because the boy immediately curled into Techno’s chest. Phil stretched out his arms and legs as he stood, muffling a yawn into the back of his hand. Techno made a clicking noise with his tongue as he began to head towards the door, and he was glad that Quota picked up on it when he heard soft thumps of tiny paws following behind them.

Techno carried Ranboo out of the makeshift dog kennel and towards his own cottage, which seemed to catch Phil off guard. The whole reason they’d built Ranboo a house was so that he could live there, and things wouldn’t get awkward due to the whole Edward situation. Techno doubted that Edward would mind for one night, though, and if he did, Techno would just give him a new piece of dirt to shut him up.

Phil opened the front door for them, and Techno brought the boy inside. Quota trotted along happily, shaking out her coat of any lingering snowflakes. Techno grunted in annoyance as water now dripped onto the floor, but it was a problem he’d deal with later.

It took some difficulty to get both himself and Ranboo up the ladder, but Techno managed. It wasn’t the first time he’d climbed a ladder with something heavy in his arms, but typically it was a chest, or a sack of potatoes, or literally anything other than a person. Techno made his way over to his own bed where the blankets were still pulled back, and he laid Ranboo down in the centre of the bed. He took the crown (similar to his own, he noted) off the boy’s head and placed it atop the dresser, where it would be safe. He pulled the blankets over the child and hesitated for a moment, having to blink and take a breath to calm down the anxious tug of his heartstrings.

He remembered the night he’d found Tommy, hypothermic, crying, and afraid in his basement, he’d bundled Tommy up in his own bed just like this. Techno had wrapped the child up in his cape for extra warmth, piled all the covers onto him he possibly could, and he stayed awake all night to keep an eye on him. Tommy had been slipping in and out of consciousness, murmuring Techno’s name over and over out of sheer exhaustion and desperation. Techno had ran his fingers through blond hair, whispering soft reassurances that he was there, and he wouldn’t let anything hurt his baby brother. Not again. 

_“You’re selfish! You’re selfish, Techno!”_

Techno exhaled the breath he’d been holding and tucked Ranboo into the covers. Tommy was gone. It didn’t matter. His little brother thought him to be a traitorous, selfish monster. He wasn’t going to replace Tommy with Ranboo, was he? Just as he made sure Ranboo was comfortable, he could hear Phil coming up the ladder behind him. His Father approached with Quota in his arms, who was set down at the bottom of the bed and quickly scurried to snuggle up beside Ranboo’s head. Still asleep, Ranboo reached out and pulled the puppy close, the pair curling up together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Both Techno and Phil retreated down the ladder, Techno shutting the trapdoor to give the sleeping child a bit more privacy. Phil had moved towards the fire, nudging it with a poker to try and jumpstart some life back into it. It was nearly out, but a few extra logs and another hit from some flint and steel had it roaring again.

Techno came over to stand beside him. The father-son duo watched as the flames crackled and danced, Techno getting lost in the movements. Phil’s voice brought him out of it.

“We’ll be okay, mate.”

He turned to look at him, a few strands of his hair falling into his eyes and blocking his vision. He wasn’t even sure how his braid had managed to stay in one piece with both the war, and his nap earlier. Only a few strands of hair had been sacrificed, apparently. Phil’s gaze was fixed on the fire, but when he felt Techno’s eyes on him, he turned to look at his son. There were tears in Phil’s eyes. For the second time that day, Phil offered Techno a smile, albeit forced. This time, as much as it hurt to, Techno returned it the best he could.

Phil took a step towards his oldest, arms wrapping around him as he pulled the piglin hybrid into a tight hug. Techno was quick to return it, arms finding their way around Phil’s waist. He pressed his face against his shoulder and for the first time in days, Techno found himself able to think clearly. There was no shouting in the back of his mind, no voices, no lingering panic or paranoia. Just Phil.

Taking a shaky breath and gripping his father tighter, Techno nodded against his shoulder.

“Yeah, Phil. We’ll be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to come scream with me on Twitter @LovebotHux, or on Tumblr @subject-to-feels!
> 
> EDIT: I've decided I'm gonna make a second chapter, because I really wanna write more of this from a certain homeless green Teletubbies perspective :) hope to get it out soon!


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